


Hot Cocoa

by ythmir



Series: 182 series [3]
Category: Midnight Cinderella (Video Game)
Genre: College AU, F/M, Fluff, Hot Cocoa, warm feelings that go with the beginning of something new
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-05 22:28:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19049725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ythmir/pseuds/ythmir
Summary: in which she feels the beginnings of sweet feelings towards the Archduke





	Hot Cocoa

It was just maybe a bit of a cliché. 

A sudden downpour – evening summer rain in a flash, when the afternoon had been too bright, too hot, too in her-face-kind-of-dry and had made her crave swimming pools and ice cream. Made her leave her umbrella at her sisters’ apartment. Made her miss the storm clouds. Made her stay too long finishing research and projects, and when she had finally emerged from the university library, she was just a little bit confused, then a little bit worried, and just maybe a little bit –

“Stranded?”

Alaia had looked up, saw his umbrella first before his face. “Oh. Hello there, Rayvis.”

He had nodded back in greeting, had shifted his umbrella as he did; stark black and looked like it could accommodate three people. Or four. The kind Alaia saw in movies for important people. Not college students. Not a classmate in her calligraphy class who had always looked sure when he made his pieces; big, bold strokes, definite and defiant, with that twist in the end that had seemed like a signature.

“Sort of.” She added. “Forgot my umbrella.”

“The news predicted evening rain.”

“The news did not predict the ton of assignment we’d get before finals.”

Rayvis raised his brows in understanding. “Got everything done, then?”

“Mostly.” She replied. “Still got that assignment for calligraphy. You?”

“Same.” Rayvis said. And then he had angled his umbrella in her direction.  A silent offer, maybe. A little bit of nudging, maybe. And as she contemplated whether she should take him up on it, she tried to clamp down on her memories: how she had always been a fan of his calligraphy, how she had taken too long staring at his latest piece when he had presented it in class. How he had nudged her out of her contemplative state then, and how she had stuttered apologies.

And now this. Him, standing there with a sort of lifeline. Her, caught in not so quite unfortunate circumstances of being too busy, too engrossed, too – well, not wanting to get wet. So what the hell, right?

Cliché. But were not most things in life like that?

So the next thing Alaia knew they were walking under the same umbrella and casually chatting – quizzes, little lesson tips, a new bubble tea shop had opened two blocks away – and then he had asked if they could stop by a café for him, to buy something light for dinner. She had countered she might as well grab dinner too. Because well, the rain was by some grand design or caprice of fate, had no intention of relenting, really.

So she was seated across him and they were listening to the rain, and they were talking about brushes and waiting for their takeout. And she thought that she had always pegged Rayvis to be a bit serious, a bit aloof. The type of guy who took strong coffees, had chauffeurs, and brought big black umbrellas even when attending spring picnics.

Alaia however had never thought him to be so casual, so easy to talk to, so – there was a word for this that she could not quite catch – gentle? Warm? Or was that the atmosphere and the way the café’s lights caught his face, his grey sweater and jacket? Just that, Rayvis had never seemed the type who could look so relaxed sitting on highchairs, elbows on the table kind who could name each hanging plant above them.  And definitely not the type order three chocolate drinks. One for his roommate. One for himself.

And one for her.

She took it gingerly, almost too jumpy at how casually their fingers touched, at how bemused he looked when she again offered mixtures of thanks and apologies.

“I hope it doesn’t come too forward?”

“I would kill people for hot cocoa.” She confessed.

Rayvis closed his eyes as if he was already waiting for the killing blow. “Not all people, I hope.”

“At least not the ones who buy them for me.” She raised her eyes in mock grandeur and then broke down into a giggle. “Thank you.”

“A little reward for all your hard work seemed fitting.” Rayvis took a sip of his own chocolate. Nodded in satisfaction. “It’s their best seller.”

Alia took a sip, pressed her lips together, tried not to squirm in her seat as the taste of  _heavenly_  chocolate coated her tongue, made her shiver in delight.

But Rayvis had caught it and seemed to be fighting the urge to laugh. “Good?” he asked, a smile playing on his lips. A smile, dear god above, that she would do everything to keep.

“Good.”


End file.
